


Give It Here

by Sanj



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanj/pseuds/Sanj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately post-3x22, "Goodbye."</p>
<p>"I can give you bracing speeches and help find answers," Blaine offered, "or we can move on to the cuddles and comforting blow job portion and get back to that later. Up to you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give It Here

New Directions all watched as the train pulled away, carrying Rachel off to New York and her dreams. Kurt's face was open and genuine as he hugged Finn's shoulders; Blaine watched him nodding sympathetically, listened to him organize and moderate the mob of their friends, and watched his shoulders bunch with repressed tension. 

He was finally able to pull Kurt away for a moment. "You want to get out of here?" he asked. Kurt was looking wild around the eyes; just a little. You had to know him to know it was there.

"God." It was almost a moan. "Can we?"

"You've done your part," Blaine assured him. "And been very, well, mature sounds weird –"

"Generous? Decent? Professional?"

"Also fabulous."

" _Mais bien sûr._ " Kurt crossed back over to Finn and grabbed his arm, muttered something in his ear and gave him an awkward half-hug. He made "call me" gestures to half of New Directions, and then grabbed Blaine's hand and hightailed it to the parking lot.

"Mom and Dad are still in the Hague," Blaine reminded Kurt as he turned the car back toward Kurt's end of Lima. The wrong end.

Kurt braked abruptly and did a messy, action-film three-point turn in the parking lot. "That's right. I knew that. How did I even forget that?"

"You're a little preoccupied?" 

"Sweet Mother of Gaga," Kurt averred. 

"You okay?"

"You saw me, I was perfect. I was fucking perfect."

"Like the song." Blaine reached for Kurt's hand on the stick shift, watched his tight lips ease into a half-smile.

"Like the song."

Kurt bit his lip. "I'm not talking about it yet, okay? I mean, yes, that sucked, but Rachel's the one who got jilted at the altar, so I'm going to give her a day before I rant about how jealous and vindictive I feel about the entire cluster of hell that is my future."

"You know I'm here whenever you're ready," Blaine told him. Because he was, God, he was, he wanted to help Kurt figure this out. Even if it involved him leaving. He'd been prepared for Kurt to leave. They would handle this. They would handle their future, and Kurt's plans came first.

In more ways than one, if Blaine was being brutally honest with himself, but he didn't care. He could do everything he'd ever wanted to do in New York. That was what New York was for.

Kurt handed him his phone, and Blaine texted Kurt's dad _I'll be home by midnight,_ and, with some coaching, told Finn, _I really want to hear what happened, but later, okay?_

"He says okay," Blaine reported twice.

They finally pulled into Blaine' driveway – blessedly free of other cars, or, in fact, of any signs of human life. Blaine remembered resenting his mother's globetrotting career, his father's conferences and seminars.

Then he and Kurt had started having sex.

"Anybody home?" Blaine called, just on the off chance the housekeeping service had come by, or that Cooper had decided to visit again. But no: they were safe.

"Okay," he said to Kurt. "Come here." He held Kurt's body against him until Kurt melted. It took a while; Kurt had been all taut shoulders and stiff backbone for hours. 

Finally, Kurt breathed into the quiet of the room. "I'm so fucking jealous of her. I hate myself. I can't even – _god_."

"I know," Blaine soothed.

"I don't think even you can get it," Kurt said, leaning his head up against the hallway door. "She. My whole life, Blaine. Since we first met in ballet class when I was five. She has always, always gotten everything I wanted. All of the praise, all of the awards, all of the acceptance. Everything. God. She even got the guy, you know? Though it turns out she can have him. Or she can't. Semantics. Still. _You_ even kissed her before you kissed me –"

"Let us never speak of it."

"Seriously, everything, Blaine. And I was really, really good. And Carmen Thibideault said so and Rachel choked on her audition, she _choked_ , she didn't get eight bars in. And now she is going. She is really going and I am stuck in this cow-patty town without a plan B, because I am a fucking idiot. And my brother is so messed up by her he had to go join the Army -- seriously, who even _does_ that? And she is my best friend and I hate her so much right now, and this isn't even her fault, not really, and I can't do this. I cannot do today over and over again all summer. It's just not going to be possible."

Blaine nuzzled his neck a little, held him close, and let him wind down. "I can give you bracing speeches and help find answers," he offered, "or we can move on to the cuddles and comforting blow job portion and get back to that later. Up to you."

Kurt gave him a long take and then stood. "Why are we even talking right now?" he asked. "Upstairs. Now." He held out his hand and Blaine took it. "Please, I mean."

"You get me all summer," Blaine offered as they climbed the stairs. "If that helps."

Kurt grabbed Blaine at the top of the stairs and pushed him firmly against the wall. "You have no idea," he said, low enough that it was almost a growl. Blaine's cock went from _mmmm, Kurt is nice_ to _have sex now_ inside of a second. He tilted his head as Kurt approached and they proceeded to kiss the hell out of each other.

"Much better," Kurt said, running his fingers speculatively over Blaine's mouth, as if to say _you mentioned blow job_? Kurt hated to ask; it was something Blaine found almost as endearing as it was frustrating.

"Glad I could help," he said, unbuttoning Kurt's outer layer and sliding it off. Mmmm. Arms. He kissed Kurt again and backed him up down the hall, headed toward the end of the bed.

"I get to spend the whole summer doing this with you," Kurt said, slithering out of his pants while Blaine unlaced his boots. 

"Now you see the bright side." Blaine knelt and nuzzled Kurt's cock through his briefs. "These too, please," he said, tugging on them, and Kurt obligingly let him pull them off.

"Bright side." said Kurt. "Oh, yes. Yes, I see. Indeed."

God, Blaine had wanted to do this all day. The waiting usually made it even better, but Kurt had been so tense, and Blaine was strung out with need – his and Kurt's both. Kurt's fingers slid into his hair. Finally. It sometimes took longer, getting Kurt to accept this, but today he was taking it as his due. Blaine eased Kurt's boots off, rolled down his socks, kissed the arches of his feet.

"Higher," Kurt said, his voice surprisingly low. "The thing you want to lick is higher up."

Blaine looked up at him, surprised, and started to say _don't be pushy_. And then decided that no, pushy was fine. Pushy did it for him, apparently. Noted. He obediently took hold of Kurt's cock and got to business.

Blaine liked getting blow jobs – Jesus, who didn’t? – but found it even better to feel Kurt's hand caress his hair, to hear Kurt's breathy, gorgeous noises, to sink into the scent of Kurt's body and offer up his own – mouth, hands, everything, whatever -- for Kurt's exclusive use.

"You are so fucking gorgeous," Kurt said, and he mostly only swore like that when he was about to come, so Blaine took the warning. He let Kurt thrust up against his palate a couple more times – they were getting better at that – and then Kurt gave him a belated, warning moan, and Blaine swallowed. Which Kurt loved as much as he did, even if he just kept claiming that it was unsanitary.

"You shouldn't –" Kurt started, and Blaine nuzzled up against Kurt's softening cock as if asking for more. "Come up here," Kurt said. "Bed," he added, and scooted back to pat a place on the mattress next to him. "Lie down," he added.

Blaine was happy to comply, and then it was his turn with Kurt's mouth and his hands and his gorgeous fucking naked everything, all over him. Straddling him, hands on either side of him. Nice, solid Kurt everywhere.

"You're not usually this –"

"Aggressive?" Kurt asked. "Is it okay?"

"Very okay," Blaine said. "More than okay. Hot. Good." Kurt slid back toward Blaine's cock, fondling his thighs and nuzzling against him. Blaine reached down to adjust himself, but Kurt caught his wrist. He pinned Blaine's arms above his head with surprising strength. 

"Nnnnngh," said Blaine.

"Yeah?"

"Please," Blaine affirmed.

"Keep them there, then," Kurt said. "Don't touch yourself. And don't come until I tell you to."

Had Kurt been watching _porn_? "Yes, sir," he breathed in response. His whole body sang with it, like a plucked guitar string. Yes, yes, yes _sir_.

Kurt licked and nuzzled and took him deep (yay, practice), and Blaine's hands quested downwards twice before Kurt noticed and let him go. "Grab the headboard," he ordered, and didn't touch Blaine again as they inched their way up the bed a little more. Blaine touched his hands to his headboard, quested for a lip to grab. "Stay there," Kurt added. His mouth was slick and red.

Blaine felt muffled, somewhat, almost drunk with it. As if he'd never known anything but Kurt's gorgeous, ridiculous mouth on his cock, and all he needed to do in his life was keep his hands on the headboard and let Kurt take him. He wanted to just dissolve away into this, slip away forever. 

But it had to end, eventually. "I'm gonna. Kurt? Coming."

Kurt slid his mouth off of Blaine's cock with a soft, wet sound. "Really," he said, jerking him gently a couple of times. "I'm pretty sure I said that you get to come when I tell you."

Blain stared at him, half _yes sir_ and half _now now now please now._

"Come in my mouth," Kurt said. "Do it now." And he went back down on Blaine, and Blaine thrust up, hard. Kurt didn't seem to care. And then that was it, he was going. Coming. Whatever. So hard. "Jesus."

"Try again," Kurt said. " _Say my name, say my name_ ," he sang into Blaine's ear. 

"Kurt. Kurt Kurt Kurt. Kurt, glorious Kurt. Can I please, please touch you now?"

"Oh," said Kurt. "Yes. You may." Blaine pulled his arms down and pulled Kurt into them, and they kissed each other for a while. "Was that okay?" Kurt asked in a smaller voice.

"Kurt." Blaine said. Once more with feeling. "Did you just see that? What do you think?"

"I mean, it seemed okay, but I didn't want to be too bossy or convey some kind of anti-egalitarian message or something." His fingers ran over Blaine's mouth again. His eyes were searching Blaine's for something. Some comforting expression. Blaine tried to project _good, good, good, all that there was all good_.

They lay together for a while; Blaine nuzzled into Kurt's hair. He smelled so good. Something apple-y. "The only thing is that we may now have to have sex like that all the time," Blaine said, "because it turns out I really like it when you boss me around."

"Yeah, you do. I didn't know if you'd go for that."

"I didn't either. I don't think I knew that was a thing. I think I like the idea of serving you. Weird as that sounds." He smiled, watching the mischief in Kurt's eyes. 

Fixed. At least for now.

"Fine, bitch," Kurt ordered, "go get me a glass of water."

"'Bitch' isn't working for me," Blaine said, getting up. "Ice?"

"I'm crazy about you, you gorgeous man," Kurt said. "And yes."

"Say please."

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Kink Bingo Amnesty 2012, with the prompt of "obedience." I wrote and posted it during Con.Txt; I remember somebody betaed it. It was probably Ellen Fremedon, but since she's allergic to this fandom, I can't be certain. :)


End file.
